


Buried Close

by NightmareAntlers



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Chiyoh's POV at some point, Crying, Death, Growing Old Together, Love Notes, M/M, Pain, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 05:24:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9420551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightmareAntlers/pseuds/NightmareAntlers
Summary: Hannibal and Will grow old together but as Hannibal is ten years older, he succumbs to some illness and dies first. Will is left alone. He visits Hannibal's grave everyday but what he doesn't know is that Chiyoh kept her promise to keep an eye on Hannibal.Or, in which Chiyoh witnesses how it's painful to watch Will physically neglecting himself after his husband's death.





	

 

> _"In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.”_  
>  _― Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles_

 

It started innocently at first, a sweet gesture in their still developing relationship when both were in the process of testing the waters. But when Hannibal is concerned, nothing is left without all kind of degrees of consideration.

And so here was Will one day, a little piece of paper clutched in hand after Hannibal had to depart for work, leaving Will alone in Hannibal's bed and a goofy grin on his face.

So it continued, again and again, even when Hannibal had a day off. He quietly scribbled down some nonsense with his elegant handwriting and liked to depose it on his pillow next to Will sleeping form after he climbed out of bed. So when Will woke up, it put a smile on his face first thing in the morning. Hannibal never forgot once and did it every single day. It contained poems, sometimes small sketches even or a simple reminder of his love for Will.

One morning, Will approached Hannibal when the latter was making some elaborate breakfast in their kitchen. Yes, their kitchen. He still couldn't believe how natural it felt and Will was amazed by the number of notes he had to keep in boxes, storing them away here and there.

"You should stop with these..." He said instead of greetings.

"You don't appreciate the gesture or the content of the notes?" Hannibal replied, not looking up.

"You know it's not that," Will groaned, "but you've been doing that for years now."

"And?"

"And I'm out of place to stock them."

Then Hannibal finally deigned to face Will, his lips curling upward. He was pleased and Will wanted to kiss that smug expression out of his damn face.

"I'm sure we will find something."

 

***

 

Years pass and their tranquil routine remains. They grow old together and Will stocks them all. All of them. A stack of boxes in their bedroom, the sitting room, the study and even in the garage. Will cherishes them by committing them to memory and carefully trying to not ruffle them.

 

***

 

Hannibal dies many years later and so Will's heart with it.

In his will, Hannibal specifically mentions to be buried and so Will does it. What Will doesn't do is a funeral, who will come anyway? Hannibal is under the ground in a matter of days and so Will visits Hannibal.

He successfully bribes the employees of the cemetery to let him come with his dogs, promising them that they are well-behaved dogs and his loss is very recent and so he needs them by his side.

And so he goes every day, bringing his dogs and, also, one of Hannibal's note with him to read to Hannibal's grave. Will maintains Hannibal's habit but now he finishes with burning each little paper after reading them out loud.

These notes were supposed to be a source of joy but now the only thing that makes him get up in the morning is to visit Hannibal. They used to put a smile on Will's face once. Now there are only tears.

Will never misses a day, be it raining, sunny, windy or snowing. During spring and summer, he allows himself to sit in front of the tombstone, the hard and unforgiving ground under his ass and legs. His dogs curled around him. It's painful to stand up after, Will isn't very young anymore and so during autumn and winter, he barely can make it to his car after standing up for so long. But he ignores it and tells himself he will rest once home, where Hannibal isn't and cry himself to sleep.

 

***

 

Over the years, Chiyoh never breaks her promise to Hannibal. She lived her life but also kept an eye on him and protected him no matter what. But life reminded her that she cannot protect one's life against malady and some other internal diagnosis she will never come to know of. But even now, she is still, staring at Will burning the notes from afar before leaving.

As months and years pass, she also notices that Will's pack is becoming smaller of dogs. They, too, abandon Will one at a time until the day when Will arrives completely alone. Will is almost lethargic in his pace, reaching Hannibal's grave in slow-motion. She's aware of his health deteriorating and wonders if Will takes care of himself properly since Hannibal's death. She knows he doesn't, though.

Chiyoh is sometimes close enough to hear Will's voice and sometimes she isn't, leaving Will mourning and grieving privately. She ages too, her keen eyes are not as they used to be once and today she's standing close enough to hear Will's voice manically repeating Hannibal's words. His voice has changed since the first day, he still sobs but his voice has become cold, emotionless, empty. Chiyoh surprises herself with the urge to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, she could go to him but she shrugs off the idea instantly.

She remembers then, at the beginning of Will and Hannibal's relationship how clearly she was reluctant about it. But after everyhting they've been through, she realized that protecting Hannibal meant to protect Will as well. Chiyoh would do anything to give Hannibal back to Will because, in her entire life, she has never witnessed such profound and genuine love. Of course, she missed Hannibal too but in a different way, not as deeply as Will. Disturbing Will's life again by making an appearance wouldn't do them any good. So she quietly resumes her watch.

Will runs out of notes eventually. He burns the last one and stands in front of the grave, numb. The notes were a stability in his life, something constant and grounding. But not anymore. He takes a step then and lays down a hand on the freezing cold stone atop Hannibal's grave.

"See you soon," He says and Chiyoh frowns, noticing Will's now trembling but determined voice.

He leaves, weaker than ever.

The next day, as usual, Chiyoh's here. Will isn't. She waits, and waits, and waits until dark. Chiyoh gets it now. Nobody will come.

The following morning, Chiyoh approaches until she hits Will's former spot. She dares to come closer because Will is situated in from of her. A second grave is placed right next to Hannibal's, new and brighter than Hannibal's tombstone, bereft of all kind of traces of bad weather.

She stares for a long time, doesn't quite know what to make of it. Her watch is over and so she addresses them a few words, one last time.

"May you find each other again." And means it.

The way out of the cemetery is made with her heart heavy. Will killed himself and she, too, understands now how painful it is to have nothing left of Hannibal. How unbearable the feeling weights uneasy in her stomach. She never felt compassionate toward anyone but now she perceives what Will must have felt like all those years without Hannibal. Will has lived with only memories and hundred of notes scattered in every room of his home and to be deprived of them, of Hannibal's last token of delights, made Will come to a decision.

Chiyoh glances one last time at their joined graves and silently makes her goodbye. She knows she will miss them but she will never admit it to herself.

**Author's Note:**

> Can't live with him, can't live without him.
> 
> PS: I'm sorry.


End file.
